Someone is reading very old blog entries of mine. It made me go back to read them myself. Holy fuck, I am stuck.
I am 47 years old (for 27 more days) and it's like I haven't learned a single lesson about men in all these years. For fuck's sake people, I thought when you made a mistake, you learned something and then worked on not doing it again. It is embarrassing to reread. I sound like a 15-year-old emo chick.
I am on a mission to not put energy into any of the men in my past. Whenever I start to delve into my "misery of love" thing I simply remind myself that I deserve that energy to be spent on myself. There is not one ex in my life that spends a minute thinking about, missing, wondering about how I am so why should I give them anything? I am done.
When I find myself slipping, I smile, straighten my spine, and remind myself of who is important. Me.